


The book with which it all began

by headless_nic



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headless_nic/pseuds/headless_nic
Summary: Mortified by her family's behaviour, Elizabeth slips away during the Netherfield Ball only to find that other than she had always assumed, reading can be a far from an innocent pastime.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 97





	The book with which it all began

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-post of one of my old stories I had taken down due to enrollment in KU. But with the current situation, we can all do with a little distraction and even more so with a few chuckles. This story is old and the editing still a bit dodgy - yes, it has been a learning curve - so please bear with me, I'm gradually getting better. ;)

Chapter 1

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," he coldly replied1, and then fell silent once more.

To Elizabeth's relief shortly after the dance ended, and she was led off the dance floor by Mr Darcy and back to Miss Lucas, who was currently engaged in an animated conversation with, Mr Collins. Or rather Mr Collins was animatedly conversing in his usual pompous way while Charlotte listened to him in silence smiling politely, once in a while nodding in agreement.

Suppressing yet another sigh, as she had done so often this evening already, Elizabeth thought of how much the relief of one evil could lead to yet another. Her cousin over the last few days had made it perfectly clear that he intended to make her mistress of his parsonage at Hunsford, and her mother, to no surprise, encouraged him vividly in his efforts. Of course, he had mentioned more than once what a happy union this would be in regards to his noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and that the recommendation for him to marry from amongst his cousins had initially stemmed from her. 

"… the lane, my dear Miss Lucas, which separates my own humble abode from the most wonderful grounds of Rosings Park is but narrow, nothing really but a footpath. Lady Catherine herself remarked one evening, as I had been invited to tea as she often does in her great kindness, that it does not really count as a separation at all. Not at all. Now is this not kindness indeed?" 

Struggling to keep her countenance, Elizabeth watched the couples arrange themselves for another dance. The next would be the supper set as midnight was nearing, and it did not bode well that she had not been asked by any of the gentlemen for this dance. Though perhaps, she smiled to herself, it could just as well be lucky that not even Mr Collins in his overbearing attentiveness of late had remembered to put himself forward in this way.

"… really, it is such a shame that Miss Anne de Bourgh is of a rather sickly constitution. She is the most elegant of creatures I have ever seen and I have often told her Ladyship that she has deprived the court of its brightest ornament by not introducing her there. But of course, she is of such noble, such prominent position that an introduction is not really necessary in her case..."

Elizabeth could listen no longer. With searching glances she, at last, managed to locate Mary, as usually sitting in a corner all by herself, looking on with a mask of diffidence and contempt.

"I really cannot see what the attraction of a ball is all about!" her sister exclaimed as soon as Elizabeth had reached her taking a seat to her right. "I infinitely prefer a book."

"Well, reading is hardly an acceptable occupation during a ball, Mary. It clearly defies its object." 

"It is still better than dancing," Mary insisted. "Dancing is so wild, so animalistic even, it can hardly be deemed proper. Look at how sweaty all these people are and how stuffy this room is despite its size. And just look at Kitty and Lydia how wild they behave - and with how little decorum."

Elizabeth turned around to see for herself and sure enough, even though they were not part of the set, each clung to the arm of an officer flirting wildly, laughing unabashedly and standing far closer to the men than propriety allowed. But before she had a chance to reach and remind them of how to behave with decency, the dance had ended and the bell announcing supper chimed.

As the people piled out of the overly heated ballroom, there Mary certainly had a point, and into the dining-parlour, Elizabeth caught sight of Mr Darcy again looking intently at her with an expression she could not make out at all. Something like a smile played around his lips and lit up his eyes and she was curious as to what Bingley had just told him to appear so almost cheerful, for surely it could not be the sight of her which could produce such a handsome expression on his otherwise sombre and haughty face. 

Settling between Mary and Charlotte Lucas she took nothing but a bit of white soup and an apple afterwards. Hearing her mother speak loudly and for everyone not completely deaf to perceive about Jane's most fortunate prospects of marrying Mr Bingley, left her with little appetite. 

"Five thousand a year!" Mrs Bennet's shrill voice sounded across the room making many a head turn towards her as she merrily chatted on, addressing Lady Lucas. "Now it is a fine prospect indeed. And with Jane married so well, it will throw her sisters into the paths of men equally rich, I dare say. Lizzy, of course, will be married to Mr Collins, who has paid her the utmost attention. And really I am so glad that one day one of my own daughters will be mistress of Longbourn. These entailments are such a nuisance and so unbelievably complicated, I can never make up my mind about them."

Being used to her mother's indiscretion, Elizabeth tried her best to ignore it as there was little chance of influencing a topic so dear to her. But when Mr Collins got up, proclaiming he had just found out that at this very instance a relative, a nephew nonetheless of his noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh, was present among them and that it was absolutely necessary to inform him of her Ladyship's well-being, she had to intervene.

"Do you think it wise to approach a man you have not been introduced to? Surely you must see the impropriety of it, Mr Collins," she carefully tried to dissuade him.

"Your concern does you credit, Cousin Elizabeth," he began, looking down on her as he had already gotten up from his seat and was about to walk past her. "But in my position as a clergyman and being under the protection of Lady Catherine herself I am sure my advances will be most welcome. I am after all not just somebody."

"But surely...," she once more tried, only to be interrupted.

"I can assure you, my dearest cousin, your advice will always be welcome to me. But as you are by no means as experienced in society as noble as this as I am, I dare say I will follow my own good judgement. Who would object to the assurances of a dear aunt's well being? Pray, excuse me."

The mortification as he approached Mr Darcy was immense and just when she had thought it could not be surpassed, Mr Bingley, who till now had been completely engrossed in a conversation with Jane, in an attempt to gain control over the situation which was about to get out of hand due to her own family, suggested a song. His plight had not been finished when Mary had jumped up and hurried towards the pianoforte, nearly knocking over Mrs Hurst to whom this request had actually been made, and with an air of arrogance which in no way befitted her skill, she began playing and singing. Mary's voice was by no means up to such a challenge and even though her technique was good, her performance generally lacked spirit and emotion.

Elizabeth could take it no longer. Excusing herself from Charlotte she hurried out of the room in quest of finding a commode, or rather of finding solitude.

When she had finished, Elizabeth could not quite bring herself to return straight away and finding the billiard room to be empty she slipped inside, closing the door behind her. Only the muffled sounds of conversation and music reached her now. Silence at last!

Sitting down in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace she was surprised to find a book lying on the side table. A magnificent table with an inlaid chess board. Smiling Elizabeth ran her hand along the smooth surface before reaching for the tome. Perhaps Mary was right, after all, perhaps reading was preferable to a ball – at least a ball which held so much potential for embarrassment and so little for true enjoyment. 

It was a surprise to find that the book bore no title. It was a pretty little volume though, bound in dark blue leather with a golden floral embossment and gilded leaves. Could it be a diary? And if, whose was it? Curiously Elizabeth flipped through it. It was not a diary, had it been she would have put it back straight away. But it was a printed book as she had hoped. A printed book with coloured copperplate prints. At first, she did not quite realise what she held in her hands, but then it dawned on her as she stared at one of the very detailed prints blushing furiously.

With widening eyes and reddened cheeks Elizabeth Bennet began to read unawares of the figure who had just entered the room as silently as she had done before and for the very same reason.

Chapter 2

Within minutes she was completely lost in this most forbidden book. Curling up in the chair Elizabeth eagerly read up on a topic so unfamiliar to her. Never in her life had she held let alone read something alike. But it was very interesting and Elizabeth Bennet had never been one to refuse knowledge, no matter the subject. It was also not as if she did not know about the act of mating. She had after all grown up in the country and knew that much attention went into the breeding of sheep, cows, and horses. But having a book describing the act on human beings seemed, no obviously was, a completely different thing altogether. 

Could it really be as pleasing as the text claimed? She wondered before a small giggle escaped her mouth as she thought about various people in some of the more precarious positions depicted thus.  
It was this giggle which made the figure startle, as yet unaware of her as she was well hidden from sight by the high backed chair designed to keep the draught away. 

"Who is there?" the man inquired carefully, his voice slightly slurred by the alcohol he had consumed.

Jumping to her feet Elizabeth stood face to face with none other than a fairly tipsy Mr Darcy, his eyes widening in astonishment.

"Miss Bennet!"

"Mr Darcy!"

Slamming the book shut quickly she hoped he did not know what she had been reading, wondering at the same time who might own such saucy kind of literature. Her guess would be on Mr Hurst, he seemed the right type. But why would he, as a married man, need such a manual? Was it Bingley's in preparation of his nuptials? 

Looking up she saw the answer in the face of the man before her. Mr Darcy, at seeing the volume in her hand, had first turned pale then a brilliant shade of red, a colour she was sure, was matched by her own countenance.

"I am sorry to have disturbed you in your silent reverie. It was not my intention," the flustered man, at last, managed to say, his eyes never leaving the book in her hands. "I trust you have found a good way of entertaining yourself?" 

Even as he said those words, he closed his eyes in obvious mortification at what he had implied. He knew, indeed. Mr Darcy had read this book and was now judging her. Oh, what must he think of her! As if her family had not already caused enough embarrassment this evening. But there was no way back, which meant that forward was the only way to go.

As nonchalantly as she could, considering the circumstances, Elizabeth answered, accompanied by a small curtsy: "Yes, I thank you, Mr Darcy, I had the great pleasure of finding a most interesting book on the side table and have to say I was completely engrossed in it. I did not even hear you enter. Have you read it? It seems to be the type of book you might enjoy."

Taking a sip of his brandy he obviously struggled to find an answer. His obvious discomfort made him look more human than she had ever perceived the man to be and it suited him quite well. Like this, Mr Darcy looked almost likeable.

"Oh come now, Mr Darcy, this situation is awkward enough as it is. It would be much easier if we could just laugh at it and then forget it ever happened."

"You are perfectly right, of course," he bowed, "Yes, I have enjoyed the book myself. I have like yourself only read it for scientific purposes, of course. You know, there is a theory that if an animal takes as much pleasure in what is described within the offspring will be more healthy and commonly also bigger."

Elizabeth gaped at him at first, then laughed: "Really? And this is scientifically proven how?"

"I would not know. I tried to find out the other day, but I could not find a horse willing to answer me. They acted as if they did not know what I was on about, which I found most curious in itself. My gelding, of course, had a good excuse for it, but Bingley's stallion could not be persuaded to give away his secrets," Darcy answered with a wry expression and a sparkle to his dark eyes.

"Perhaps he was embarrassed."

"Yes, that might very well be. Surprising though as normally he is not all that shy, I can assure you. But perhaps he had not yet had the opportunity to read the book himself and thus simply could not give a qualified answer. We have to make allowances to poor Augustus."

"Who is Augustus?"

"Bingley's horse." 

"And what is your horse's name?"

"Clarabella."

"I thought it was a gelding."

"Yes, but I charged my sister to find a suitable name and when she asked if it was a stallion I made the mistake of simply answering ‘no', without specifying any further and thus have ended up with a gelding named Clarabella. - Though I call him ‘Arab' for short, which is just as well for a Thoroughbred."

"I did not know you had a sense for silly humour."

"There are a lot of things you do not know about me, Miss Bennet. A great many things."

His expression, so carefree only a moment before, had become serious again, but the haughtiness he usually displayed had been all but cast aside. Instead, there was an intensity in his gaze which took Elizabeth by surprise. It was as if a fire was burning inside of him, a passion she had not seen with any man before and she wondered where it stemmed from. 

Averting her eyes she replied with a smile: "Well, that was why I tried to sketch out your character earlier in the evening."

"At which you could not succeed if I remember correctly."

"No, you puzzled me exceedingly. And still, do."

A warm smile spread across his face, reaching his eyes and making them shine from within. It took all of Elizabeth's determination to remind herself that she disliked him deeply. And still, at this very moment, it was increasingly hard to recall his infamous and hard-hearted behaviour towards poor Wickham. And for the first time, she had her doubts about what she thought she knew for certain.  
If Mr Darcy was one thing it would be principled and loyal to his family. Even Mr Wickham had attested him of filial pride. All of a sudden something did not seem to make sense in the story she had been told.

Putting the book back onto the side table Elizabeth sat down onto the armchair from which she had arisen, her chin propped up on her hand in a contemplative manner, leaning on the armrest.

"You look as if something is bothering you, Miss Bennet," Darcy finally spoke after several minutes had passed, perching himself on the armrest of the other armchair.

"There is indeed something, though it is not exactly bothering me. As I have said during our dance, I had so many different accounts from you, they confuse me a great deal. They do not seem to fit together, which means somebody must be lying. Lest there is a misunderstanding, of course. But while your friends have every reason to speak well of you, pray tell me what reason would Mr Wickham have to speak so badly of you?"

If her question surprised him he did not show it. 

"Miss Bennet, I could give you a good many reasons for his slanders, but I refuse to stoop as low as he does by speaking ill of him. You might be aware that he was the son of my father's steward and as such, we grew up together. It has been many years since that we have broken with one another for which we had several reasons. If you allow me to postpone this conversation to in a week from now, I will be able to not only tell you about all my dealings with Mr Wickham, but I will also be able to produce sufficient proof so you will know I am speaking the truth. The matter is a too serious one to not have it backed up by any evidence."

This was more than she had expected and her respect for the man increased significantly. Indeed the last half hour had been spent most pleasantly in his company despite the initial awkwardness. As Elizabeth chanced to look at the small clock on the mantelpiece she paled. Half an hour! She had spent half an hour with a man in a closed room! And as if he was able to read her mind Darcy looked at her equally shocked by their carelessness. 

"Good Lord! I have even locked the door...," he whispered almost inaudibly, wiping his hand across his face.

Chapter 3

Silence fell and the tête-a-tête which only moments before had been so pleasant and carefree suddenly became an uncomfortable one. It took Darcy a couple of minutes to compose himself then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he looked at Elizabeth with a wry expression on his face.

"There might still be a way out of this, Miss Bennet, I am sure. It does not appear as if anybody as yet has been looking for us. So, I propose the following: I will leave this room while you stay hidden. If I do not close the door we have been found out and we will announce our engagement immediately as to not cause any scandal. If I close the door and leave, you will know I have come across either Bingley or one of the servants. In this case, I will apply to your father tomorrow and ask for a courtship. At least the gossip will not be as severe as it would be in the first case. If the coast is clear, however, I will knock on the door three times and we get out of this unscathed. Would this be acceptable?"

Elizabeth nodded. What else could she do in the face of potential ruin?

"Very well. One more thing, Miss Bennet, I will join Bingley tomorrow as we are to travel to London on business, if I cannot make it back in time to give you the desired information about Wickham, is there a friend in London to whom I can apply so she could send my letter without compromising you? That is if I have not done so tonight already."

Thoughtfully Elizabeth gazed at the man before her. What an enigma he was! 

"Yes, there is Mrs Gardiner, who is my aunt."

"The one who is living in Gracechurch Street?"

She was all astonishment. How odd he should remember her aunt's and uncle's address.

"Yes, the very one. She can be trusted, and if you give her an indication of what our correspondence is about will not refuse her help, I am sure."

"Very well then. Are you prepared for whatever might be lurking behind this door?"

Again she nodded and Darcy turned the key, yet feeling everything but prepared.

As he stepped out into the hallway only the sound of distant music reached her ears. The door closed and a moment later there were three light taps, sounding clearly in her ears nonetheless.  
They had gotten out of this unscathed. What a miracle!

Slipping out of the room herself she followed the sounds of the ballroom and went in search for Jane, the only person whom she could bear to face at this moment. Little was she surprised to find her dearest sister engaged in a conversation with Miss Bingley. Caroline Bingley smiled and spoke animatedly, but her smile did not reach her eyes and as Elizabeth drew nearer she could hear the topic was chosen carefully to belittle each and every one of their neighbourhood and friends.

"You know, dearest Jane, this is nothing in comparison to a private ball in London, but I could convince Charles that it was hardly necessary to have anything more than people around here would expect of such an event, which is but little judging by the assembly in Meryton we had the pleasure of attending. After all, there are very few really elegant people around here, and as it is everybody seems quite impressed by our arrangements."

Had she called their neighbours ‘country bumpkins', her meaning could not have been clearer.

"Oh, Miss Eliza, I have been wondering where you went to," Caroline carried on as soon as she had spotted her.

"I fear I have a slight headache. I went to sit down for a while in a more quiet part of the house."

This was not even a lie. The increasingly bad air in the ballroom had given her a headache indeed within minutes of re-entering it. 

"A headache? How very unfortunate! But why did you not say so, Cousin Elizabeth?"

In an instant, Mr Collins was by her side having just finished dancing with Lydia as he had not had the chance to do so previously. But his honour had absolutely not permitted, to not dance at least once with all of his fair cousins. Behind him his unwilling partner rubbed her chins demonstratively, only refraining from sticking out her tongue at her cousin's back at seeing her sisters watched her with a certain kind of foreboding sternness. 

To Elizabeth's great surprise Mr Collins gently took her by her arm and led her over to a seat beside an opened window, the curtains billowing in the late autumn breeze. 

"There, I hope you will feel better. Would you like me to get you something to drink?"

Accepting his offer he hurried off. Odd, these were the first few sentences he had spoken without referring to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Watching him cross the room, Elizabeth saw him addressing Charlotte Lucas as he passed her. Her friend smiled, then nodded and came towards her.

"Mr Collins said you do not feel too well?"

"Oh, Charlotte it is nothing but a slight headache. I tried to relieve it but then thought I might be missed and returned. You need not worry."

"But worry I did. You know shortly after you have excused yourself Mr Darcy left the table as well and has not been seen since. I was wondering if you had met with him, perhaps. Have you?"

Staring at her friend she felt yet another blush rise to her cheeks.

"Charlotte, what are you implying?" Elizabeth cried out with no small amount of distress.

"Oh Lizzy, you really must feel unwell if you cannot see that I am teasing you. You of all people, who so much likes to tease herself."

"I am sorry, but you are right. I seem to feel more unwell than I had initially thought. Hopefully, the ball will end soon so I can go home and lie down. I am quite exhausted."

She chanced at the candles which were now nearly burned down and as the music ended and the dancers had bowed to one another, Caroline Bingley announced the end of the ball in as polite a manner as she could bring herself to adapt.

The Bennets were the last of all the guests to leave, as somehow Mrs Bennet had managed to delay the arrival of their carriage by a full fifteen minutes. But at long last, they had reached Longbourn House and soon all of them had gone to bed.

As often was their habit Elizabeth and Jane shared their room, though each of them had their own little chamber. But till now, no matter how tired they had been after such an event, they still had chatted on for some minutes about their most delightful experiences. 

Tonight, however, it was only Jane who had such to share.

‘Not that my half-hour encounter with Mr Darcy was an unpleasant one, but it needs too much explaining for so early an hour,' Elizabeth thought to herself while listening to Jane's humble hopes regarding her future.

"Mother said she would not be surprised if Mr Bingley were to call later in the day. But I cannot believe it, it is too soon. Too much besides."

"My dearest Jane, you are too modest. He is so violently in love with you, I am most surprised he did not declare his intentions at the ball already."

Then something Mr Darcy had said came to mind.

"But you might be right in assuming he will not come today, as Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy are to leave for London on the morrow."

This thoughtlessly spoken information puzzled Jane, but at last too tired to carry on with their conversation she did not inquire any further and soon was asleep.

The sun rose to a frosty November morning, turned into an equally frosty November day and only in the early afternoon did the household began to stir again, Elizabeth and Jane being the first to rise alongside their cousin and father.

It was on a reflective walk through the small park of Longbourn that thus Elizabeth met with Mr Collins. Walking silently by her side he eventually addressed her, his words obviously practised beforehand. 

"Cousin Elizabeth, you cannot, I am sure, be unaware of the great attention I have shown towards you of late and neither of the great admiration I hold for you. When I have come here it was on the demand of my noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh, that I shall find a wife and marry as soon as propriety allows," Mr Collins began, a silly self-assured smile on his face. "Thus my plight cannot come as surprise to you, I am sure. But almost from the moment of my arrival, I have singled you out as the future companion of my life. I am of course aware of your meagre prospects and that you will bring nothing into the marriage apart from a few hundred Pounds, but as this has been said now I will keep silent on this subject from now on and thus ask you for your fair hand in marriage."

Chapter 4

His offer had come as no surprise there he was right, but still Elizabeth had hoped it would not come at all to the last. As it seemed though, after her lucky escape the previous night, luck was no longer on her side.

Bracing herself for what was to come she stopped to face him, her mind reeling with indignation, pity, disgust, and amusement. She would be firm, she would be honest, but she also would try to be kind in her rejection of him.

"Mr Collins, I thank you for your offer, but alas I have to decline it. I cannot possibly marry you. You might admire me at present, but you hold no real affection for me and neither do I for you. As it is my firmest belief, however, that a marriage without affection or at least a lasting regard for one another is but a miserable one, I cannot answer you any differently. My answer is ‘No'!"

Collins stared at her in apparent astonishment. His mouth opened and closed several times as if he were a fish out of water, but at last a broad smile spread across his face and lit up his watery blue eyes, making them shine in an almost endearing manner. 

"I thank you, Cousin Elizabeth. I thank you so much!"

Taking her hand he bowed over it and kissed it, leaving his cousin utterly confused. The man seemed so overjoyed by her rejection she could not but wonder about it. Had he even heard what she had said? And if so, did he register what she had told him? After all, he was not the cleverest of men.

"Mr Collins, you do realise I have refused you, do you not?"

He looked up from her hand which he still held, his own hands surprisingly warm and smooth. He was still beaming at her as if what she had said was the most wonderful thing in the world to him.

"Yes, my dearest cousin I have heard you perfectly well, and I have also registered what it was you have just told me. You have rejected my offer of marriage. And it is this which makes me such a happy man."

"My refusal makes you happy?" 

Elizabeth's astonishment could not have been greater had he grown a second head. His reaction to her decline was indeed most peculiar.

"You are right of course, that while I admire your wit and beauty, that I do not love you for my heart belongs to another, Cousin Elizabeth."

She gaped at him in a most unladylike manner, then smiled till her smile turned into a laugh.

"You love another?!" 

He merely nodded and never before had she liked Mr Collins as much as she did now. All his pompousness had left him and instead there stood a humble man with an open and happy smile on his round, clean-shaven face. A face that held little attraction to Elizabeth, but which at this instance still grew on her. For the second time within four and twenty hours a man she had thought to have made out completely, had surprised her, had shown her that perhaps she judged too rashly. And after all, there still was the as yet unresolved issue over Lieutenant George Wickham.

One question came to mind, however: "But if you love another, then why Mr Collins did you ask for my hand in marriage."

Sighing theatrically he led her to a small bench underneath a tree and bid her sit down next to him.

Taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair thoughtfully he began explaining: "It was on Lady Catherine's recommendation I should seek a wife from amongst my fair cousins. She is very attentive to all kinds of things and I am most fortunate in her patronage, but I have found lately that a heart cannot be ruled by anybody. Not by me, not by you, and certainly not by Lady Catherine on demand." 

Here Elizabeth had to chuckle.

"Yes, I know you think me silly and perhaps I am, but I am not blind, Cousin Elizabeth. I know my noble patroness can have a rather pedantic and overbearing air about her and yet, at the same time she is kind and attentive to each and everyone around her and most generous in everything she does. It is the way she is and I appreciate her for it. She has little else to occupy herself with and as it is, I am of the deepest conviction that she deserves my praise to the fullest and I have no objection to giving it freely and plentiful. But alas, I admittedly dreaded facing her having to admit that I explicitly went against her wishes. Now that you have refused me, what can she possibly have to say?"

"So I can be the scapegoat?" she teased.

"It is not as if it will be likely that you should meet her. At least not anytime soon, I should imagine," he answered good-naturedly.

They conversed a while longer till at last Mr Collins excused himself and left, venturing towards the street but not without taking the single white rose with him which alone had survived the frost of the increasingly cold nights. Elizabeth wondered where he might be going, but her heart was too full of joy to be much intrigued by it.

As she entered the house, however, her mother in a flurry of excitement ran towards her, embracing her and kissing her.

"Oh my child, my child! I knew you would save the family from certain ruin. And look how happy you are."

It took Elizabeth the blink of an eye before she knew what Mrs Bennet was on about. Of course, she had known about Mr Collins' intentions, but obviously not about his designs. It was several minutes till at last Elizabeth had a chance to speak as her mother chattered on and on, going from wedding clothes to imagining how the parsonage at Hunsford would look like, how Lady Catherine and if the roads were awful to travel, till returning to the topic of her daughters trousseau and the wedding clothes again.

"Mama!" Elizabeth, at last, cried out in alarm." Mama, I am not going to marry Mr Collins and he does not wish to marry me either."

"What nonsense!" her mother reproached her. "Of course he wants to marry you, he has said so himself. He has asked where you were as he had a very important question he would like to ask you and of course, this can only mean one thing."

Her mother went on like this for a good half hour, before Elizabeth was relieved by the appearance of her father.

"Mrs Bennet, for heaven's sake what is the matter?"

"Lizzy has refused to marry Mr Collins!"

"Has she, now?" Mr Bennet, oblivious of what had been going on looked slightly confused at this declaration.

"Yes, and I insist that you make her marry him!" his wife went on.

"And pray, where is Mr Collins? He seems conspicuously absent."

As if she had only become aware of this now, Mrs Bennet frantically began looking about her, then called out for him on the top of her voice before she hurried through every room of the house in search of the absent man.

"Come here, Lizzy!" Mr Bennet beckoned his daughter and opening the library door bid her sit down in front of his desk.

"From your expression, I can see that something of the sort has occurred, so, would you kindly inform me what exactly?"

Elizabeth began to lay out the most extraordinary events of the last two hours and with a sarcastic smirk, Mr Bennet nodded his approval.

"I would have never forgiven you had you accepted this man, Lizzy. There is yet another thing, I would like to ask you about. I have spent half the night and pretty much all of today in contemplation about it, but could not bring myself to come to a conclusion as I fear I may not like it very much."

Taking off his glasses and rubbing his face his expression turned more serious than it had before, the wry smile which only moments ago had graced his lips, gone. With something akin to alarm Elizabeth watched the change in her father, knowing that the question would not be a pleasant one.

"Last night I have noticed that you left the supper table."

She nodded for him to continue.

"Shortly after Mr Darcy also left."

"I would not know."

"Would you not? As it was I also happened to leave supper and incidentally saw you slip into a vacated room. However, on my way back I met Sir William and exchanged a few words with him. But I am sure that while I did so, I saw Mr Darcy enter the same room you had entered."

Chapter 5

Elizabeth did not know what to answer or even where to look. Lie to her father she could not, but to tell him the truth would be equally impossible. But before she could find a solution to her dilemma, her father with an expression of deepest woe, carried on.

"When Sir William Lucas left me I thought I might just as well have a look, lest I might have been imagining things. I went to enter the room likewise but found it to be locked."

His gaze now was scrutinizing, and still, Elizabeth could not bring herself to confide in her father. Nothing untoward had happened, unless the book she had read counted as such. Pictures of it came to mind, pictures which had followed her into her dreams. Dreams that had been so vivid, she blushed at the remembrance of them. Though she had hardly ever touched a man's bare skin, her imagination had run wild and she realised with some mortification what man she had imagined to be with, in her sleep. Now she blushed under the intense stare of her father as if he could read her mind. A father she suddenly realised, who must have committed the very same act at least five times to have produced his five daughters. The thought was somewhat disturbing, but not as disturbing as the information which followed.

"Of course I went in search of you in the hopes of having missed your exiting the room. But I could not find you anywhere."

There was a decided tint of reproach in Mr Bennet's voice and the ensuing silence hung heavy between them.

"Now my child, what have you to say to this?" Mr Bennet spoke not unkindly, yet in a way which showed he would not tolerate any obstinacy.

"I do not quite know where to begin, father," Elizabeth stammered, uncertain how to put her words. "I sought nothing but a bit of peace and quiet and..."

"And found ruin?"

"Father!"

"You cannot tell me Mr Darcy is too much of a gentleman that he would not make any advances on you. Not behind a locked door. He also was not quite sober, if I remember correctly, his stance was off and his gait was staggering."

"As you are well aware, Mr Darcy finds me merely tolerable. But I do admit that I consider him a close acquaintance."

"A friend?"

"Almost, perhaps."

Mr Bennet's gaze became even more intense at this confession. What his feelings were at this point was hard to make out. Pinching the bridge of his nose he sighed, at a momentary loss for words. When the silence became too much to bear, Elizabeth carried on, anger rising within her.

"Mr Darcy has not taken a flyer2 with me, if that is what..." 

The words had not left her lips when she realised her mistake. Her hands flew up to her mouth in an attempt to keep any more carelessly spoken words from escaping her. Her father, however, with an expression of complete shock had jumped to his feet so quickly he almost lost his footing. Darn this stupid book! Darn her perceptibility! Why, oh why did this euphemism had to slip from her mouth? Before last night she had never known it and yet it had got stuck in her mind.

"How would you know such an expression, Elizabeth? How would any of my daughters know such an expression? Do you even know what you have just said?"

His fist descended upon the table, making his inkwell and paper knife jump from the force.

"This was exactly what I was worried about, Lizzy. Worried ever since my daughters grew up. And you of all my girls, you the one I thought to have the greatest sense, you have to be the one to disappoint me thus. I am grieved, shocked, lost for words. I cannot even begin to tell you how disappointed I am in you, Elizabeth. Go! Go to your room, I will see what I will do with you later. But for now get out of my sight."

Her eyes brimming with tears, Elizabeth turned around and slowly, head hanging in shame, walked to the door. But it was impossible to open it, her hand on the doorknob refused to turn it. It was impossible to leave her father with such a low opinion of herself. A most undeserved opinion to boost. She had done nothing to deserve this kind of censure, she had always seen to behave with propriety and now a most stupid coincidence and an inattentive slip of tongue, born from confusion and hurt, had left her to such contempt.

"Please father, let me explain," she pleaded, turning around. "Let me tell you what has happened behind this door last night, as I can assure you it was nothing that cannot be told freely and to anybody. Had Mr Darcy and I been in company, no-one would have thought any of it. Please, father, listen to me."

Seeing his daughter in such great distress, Mr Bennet did not have the heart to refuse her. 

"Do sit," he offered, pouring himself a glass of Port in an attempt to calm his nerves.

When she had told him all which had occurred leaving out nothing, he was actually smiling. It was a pensive smile, but a smile nonetheless and it reached to his eyes.

"So, Mr Darcy's gelding is called Clarabella?" he chuckled at last, before getting up and embracing her, caressing her hair as had done from the time she was a little girl.

"I am sorry, my love, for having thought so lowly of you. I know you speak the truth, as you have always been a bad liar, but what if I was not the only one who has observed what I saw?"

"I do not know."

"Well, I think we might find a solution should the necessity arise. You could always revoke your answer and accept Mr Collins, of course," Mr Bennet suggested wryly and his favourite daughter could not help but chuckle herself.

"Mr Collins!" Elizabeth remembered with a start, leaving her father's comforting embrace. "I wonder if he is back yet."

"Why, where was he going?"

"I think he wanted to declare his love and make an offer of marriage, but I am most curious to whom he has lost his heart."

"Mr Collins?"

"Yes Papa, Mr Collins. I have to say since he proposed, my opinion of him has much increased."

With a pair of cynically raised eyebrows she was dismissed and at last left her fathers haven.

When Elizabeth entered the sitting room she found her mother and younger sisters engaged with some of the officers stationed at Meryton, who had come round unexpectedly, Mr Wickham among them.

He had hardly seen her when he appeared by her side as smooth and smiling as always, putting himself forward with his charming and endearing ways.

"Miss Elizabeth, what pleasure. Tell me, was the ball really as pleasant as your sisters proclaim?"

His smiles suddenly held little charm for her as she had begun to distrust them. Considering she had been almost a complete stranger then, the familiarity with which he had flaunted his misfortunes, in retrospect, seemed quite inappropriate, ungentlemanly even. Even if he had told the truth his behaviour had been at fault, while Mr Darcy's reply had been so much more generous towards his foe. Wondering what might have passed between the two childhood friends she elegantly excused herself and went outside again, wrapping her shawl around herself on the way out. Before she had heard Mr Darcy's side of things she refused to make up her mind. 

It was beginning to get dark and increasingly colder, but as the noise inside the house once more was close to unbearable even reaching the outside, and if given the choice she would rather wait in the gardens for Mr Collins to hear if he had been successful in his pursuit, than to stay indoors and listen to Mary's concertos, her mothers inappropriate remarks or Kitty and Lydia's childish chatter and snorting laughter. 

Wondering where Jane might be, she wandered around in the gloom, the wind whispering in the bare branches and the fallen leaves rustling underneath her feet. It had been an eventful day, Elizabeth mused. A day full of highs and lows. A day that had partly opened her eyes as to her own faults and softened the views to those of her fellow creatures'. She had thought Mr Darcy to be highly unpleasant and had been much surprised by him. She had thought meanly of Mr Collins and had been equally astonished, now even waited for him to see if she could find out who this mysterious woman was who had captured his heart, and hoping he would return victorious.  
Rounding yet another corner she was struck by the sight of two people, one of them unmistakeably her sister Jane, the other one a man half hidden by the shadows of an old elm tree.

Chapter 6

Contemplating whether she should approach or leave, Elizabeth stood rooted to the spot, but only for the shortest of moments. As Jane turned around, hurrying towards the house she held her handkerchief pressed firmly to her mouth as if she needed to keep herself from sobbing aloud.

"Jane, my dearest Jane, whatever is the matter?" she cried out hastening to where her sister had come to a halt as she had heard Elizabeth call out her name.

"Oh Lizzy, Lizzy I am just so unbelievably happy. How can one bear such happiness? Mr Bingley has proposed – and I said yes, of course. Oh, Lizzy, I love him so very dearly I think my heart will burst from all the joy I feel."

Tears of love, of happiness, of sheer bliss, sparkled in Jane Bennet's eyes which shone as brightly as the stars above, reflecting the golden light of the illuminated windows from beyond the shrubs. Elizabeth was speechless as she wrapped her arms around her dearest sister, almost unable still to believe what she had heard. Glancing over Jane's shoulder Mr Bingley came closer, his face displaying similar emotions but without the tears.

"Imagine my surprise when I stepped out in search for Mr Collins and instead found my dear Mr Bingley instead."

"Darcy has told you we are to leave for London tomorrow?" Bingley turned towards the woman who would soon be his sister. 

Elizabeth startled. What else had Mr Darcy told his friend? But he indeed had told her they would do so and hence all she could do was to acquiesce. Jane with regained composure, freed herself from her sister's arms to break the news to her family. Bingley and Elizabeth were left on their own.  
"I could not leave for London without knowing she would become my wife, is this not silly? But she is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld and she has touched my heart in a way no other woman has ever managed. But perhaps I should not speak of other women to the sister of my betrothed." he smiled, looking quite bashful. 

Laughing Elizabeth assured him that as long as her sister came out superior, he could talk of women as much as he chose. They had not come within twenty yards from the front door when, with a wail, it was flung open and Mrs Bennet burst out.

"Oh my dearest, dearest Jane, I knew how it would be, your beauty was bound to land you a rich man and five thousand a year! Dear me, what a match!"

Closing her eyes in mortification as she had lately done so often, Elizabeth hoped dearly that Mr Bingley would not take offence. 

When she opened them again she saw nothing but smiling faces and in a manner so good-natured it was most disarming the man remarked: "What is my wealth in comparison to what stands here by my side, Mrs Bennet?"

No reprimand would have been able to silence Mrs Bennet any better than those lovingly spoken words. With an embarrassed blush, she stood there unable to utter another word and it was only upon the arrival of yet another happy couple that she could do as much as move.

Elizabeth was not only a little surprised when none other than Charlotte Lucas, on the arm of Mr Collins, walked down the driveway and up towards the small group of people, the latter all the while whispering in hushed tones.

"...you know my dear Charlotte, the fireplace in the drawing room alone cost the excess of six hundred Pounds and it is by no means the grandest one. That would apply to the chimneypiece in the blue salon, but it is rarely in use as Lady Catherine says the room is too draughty. But my dear Charlotte, do you know where to find the most endearing fireplace of all?"

Miss Lucas replied she knew not.

"The most endearing fireplace you will find at Hunsford Parsonage, but only after we are married, because what will make it so charming is my wife sitting in front of it."

With that, he lifted her hand to his lips while his bride to be blushed most becomingly.

Two happy couples within four and twenty hours was not a bad outcome after the ball last night, Elizabeth thought, stifling a yawn. Hopefully, dinner would be ready soon and hopefully, the officers were not invited to stay lest she ended up next to Mr Wickham again, for which she had little inclination. 

In the drawing-room, however, the hubbub was just as it had been before Elizabeth had left the house, only that Wickham was at present quite engrossed in telling Lydia about his misfortunes with the same expression of cheerful pitiableness he had sported when he had first confided in herself. What was it about this man she had previously found so attractive and which now disturbed her so? After all, he had still the same appearance of goodness about him, the same most charming smile, the impeccable manners and he also still looked just as handsome as he had done when they had first seen him in Meryton standing in front of the library together with his friend Denny. 

A few instances came to mind which had occurred over the last few weeks. From the start, Wickham had flirted with her. No, actually he had flirted with all of her sisters apart from Jane of whom he knew she was about to be engaged. Thinking about it, even more, he had not just been paying special attention to her and her sisters, but to every single woman. At first, she had put it down to him not caring about rank or fortune, but could there be any ulterior motives to his actions?

Once more her mind returned towards the book she had discovered last night and what it had said about the first seduction of one's wife: ‘Flirting will win the heart of every woman if done with persistence and once the heart is won, her virtue will not be much of a hindrance. Compliment her, caress her without her noticing, stand close to her and have her feel your presence, but at the same time be discreet, and thus she will surely consent to the marital duty of amorous congress3.'

With a shiver of indignation, she could attest to all of those gestures being applied by the man most frequently. And she was sure he did so deliberately also. Just now he held his hand to Lydia's back in a way that he would not touch her, but her wild curls as she moved her head when laughing.  
She needed to speak to her father and quickly, and yet she had not the heart to disturb his conference with Mr Bingley.

Walking over to Charlotte and Mr Collins instead, both of whom were currently assuring Mrs Bennet repeatedly that they had no intention, in the case of the dreaded event of Mr Bennet's untimely death, to drive her and her daughters out of the house and that at any rate she might by then be blessed with a grandson from either of her daughters.

"But this entailment is most unfair, you must agree. See in what a position it brings me and what difference would a grandson make?"

Trying to remember just how many times her father, as well as Jane and herself, had tried to explain to her mother the concept of an entailment but failing as after the sixteenth time they somehow had lost count, Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

Again Charlotte assured her that they, and especially Mr Collins as a parson, could not be so heartless as to leave them starving in the hedgerows, before turning towards her dear friend.

"I can see you are surprised, Lizzy."

"I confess I am, but most pleasantly so. If I did not know it any better I would say this is one of these love stories which are currently so popular with my younger sisters."

Charlotte laughed, having a sister herself who was particularly fond of this kind of literature.

"So, Charlotte, when did you know your heart was lost to my dear cousin?"

Said cousin bowed pompously, but there was a glint in his eye which showed he was fully aware that he was making a fool of himself at present and this self-deprecation suited him astonishingly well. 

"Hm, let me see? I believe it was when he told me about this little lane which separates his most humble parsonage from the extensive grounds of Rosings Park."

Elizabeth laughed, while Charlotte tried to keep a straight face. But upon hearing her betrothed's chuckle failed miserably in her attempt.

As if he had sensed her growing aversion Wickham appeared by her side once more uncouthly congratulating them, a false smile plastering his face as she perceived for the first time that it never really reached his eyes. 

When she felt his hand hover behind her shoulder ready to gently brush against her should she move ever so slightly, her conversation with her father could wait no longer. It was absolutely necessary to have this man stopped in his tracks.

As she entered the dimly lit entrance hall the dinner bell chimed while at the same time a carriage came to an abrupt halt on the gravel path leading up to Longbourn House, the horse's hooves slithering across the little loose stones.

Chapter 7

Within seconds the hall was the busiest place in the whole of the house as akin to a procession eleven people walked towards the dining room from the direction of the drawing room, two people joining them from the library and poor Hill hastened to open the door answering the frantic knock of the newcomer. Only Elizabeth was stationary as she wondered what she should do. 

But as it had been ever so often during the last day, she could have saved herself the trouble as what was about to ensue was beyond her influence and for years after would serve as a cherished anecdote, generally told at a later hour. 

With a determined mien, Caroline Bingley entered the house, glaring at each and everyone before her before, with an ominous tone of voice, of which Elizabeth was sure was taught at no school, she announced: "I will not have my brother sully the family name by marrying this shameless hussy!"

With that, she pointed at Jane who, rarely thinking bad of even the greatest villain, had the great presence of mind to answer her in a way which made her sister most proud.

"Then perhaps you should find a husband for yourself and change yours."

Caroline's mouth fell open and no matter how much she glared at the woman who was to be her sister in law, Jane pointedly ignored her. It was hard to discern whether Jane was disappointed by Miss Bingley's behaviour, as with one of her angelic smiles she carried on walking till she reached her betrothed's arm. Mr Bingley at first seemed quite taken aback, but as the woman he loved with all his heart smiled up at him, he, too, chose to ignore his sister.

"Miss Eliza, this is all your doing! Without your meddling, nothing of this would have happened. Had you not insisted on your sister staying at Netherfield for the duration of her illness, my brother would never have gotten the chance to fall for this mercenary."

"Enough, Miss Bingley! That was quite enough! You are not the person who should be speaking of any woman as being mercenary, apart from perhaps yourself," yet another newcomer silenced her tirade.

Out of breath and decidedly dishevelled Mr Darcy had not even dismounted from his horse. But as Caroline had refused to cross the threshold, the door still stood ajar letting in the cold night air.

"Mr Darcy?" 

"Yes it is me, Miss Bingley," he replied, at last, getting out of the saddle. "I am sorry Bingley, but your sister managed to escape me, claiming a headache and her intention to lie down. As soon as I realised she was gone I ran for the stables and got on Arab in the hopes of catching up on her before she would arrive here, but he, unfortunately, stumbled over a tree root and seems to be a bit lame. At last, I can see that you have achieved your goal, dear friend. Miss Bennet."

He bowed, which in his current state of disarray did not look quite as elegant as it normally did. 

"Oh Wickham, you are here as well. Why am I not surprised?" he carried on. "But perhaps you should take your hands off of Miss Lydia's backside, lest I might be tempted to reveal the one or other unsavoury thing about you."

"Why Darcy, there is a true gentleman. A gentleman who is, as I have heard rumoured, most eagerly making faces4 with Miss Elizabeth."

The room fell silent at this declaration. The young women, aside from Elizabeth herself and curiously Miss Bingley, confused at to what Wickham meant, while the men and Mrs Bennet glared back at him quite angrily, all previous sympathy forgotten. Elizabeth blushed furiously under the scrutinizing glances cast in her direction, as if her body was keen on confirming such an assumption.

As Denny stood near him, Darcy reached for the man's sabre and before he knew it George Wickham was trapped against a wall unable to draw his own weapon.

"One more word, Wickham and I have you rot in debtors prison. One more seduction and I will take care that you will end up like Clarabella."

Bingley could not help himself, the laugh was tucking at the corners of his mouth and when his gaze fell on Elizabeth and Mr Bennet, both of whom were struggling equally hard to keep their countenance, he could not keep it in any longer. 

"Who is Clarabella?" Denny, at last, ventured to ask, almost disinterestedly looking at his friend and fellow officer.

"My gelding."

At this revelation Lydia snorted, Kitty giggled, Mary clicked her tongue disapprovingly and Mr Collins along with Charlotte chuckled till the whole room erupted in laughter. 

"Well, Wickham that is a serious threat indeed," his friend remarked casually. "I would think twice about upsetting this gentleman."

Darcy laughed bitterly at this: "He is unable to think twice as the part that does the thinking with is usually busy with something different altogether. Or how else would he have managed to gamble away the sum of four thousand pounds within only two years? But as it is, Mr Bennet it seems we have to talk."

With eyes wide, seeing she was about to lose not only her brother but also the man she had set her cap on, Caroline tried to intervene. Help came from an unexpected quarter.

"Oh, Miss Bingley, I had not had the opportunity to thank you last night for your most wonderful arrangements. The ball was truly splendid. I dare say even my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh..."

Turning around on her heel Caroline Bingley stormed off in indignation, almost stumbling over her petticoat as she climbed into her carriage, while Mr Collins smirked triumphantly.

"I agree, Mr Darcy. We have to speak, but despite some sense of urgency I would suggest we postpone our conversation till after dinner," Mr Bennet mused as he watched his soon to be son in law's sister depart.

With his head held high and a smile on his lips, Fitzwilliam Darcy followed Mr Bennet into his library as soon as the women had left them to their glass of Port. Most cordially he was offered a chair and even a cigar, the latter of which he declined.

"Now, what have you to say to Mr Wickham's accusations."

"Only that I can prove his own conduct to be as flawed as I have indicated, if not worse. My own supposed conduct however in regards to last night, I cannot disprove I am afraid. Even though the accusations were incorrect as the only thing of truth in them is the fact that I have spent half an hour with your daughter Elizabeth inside an accidentally locked room."

"You know you were seen?"

"We must have as it seems, though I can assure you that I made sure the coast was clear when we left the billiard room. I cannot perceive how anybody could know."

"At dinner, Mr Denny, or whatever his name is, has tipped me off. The mirror in the hallway gives a clear view of the area in front of the room in question, without necessarily revealing the person watching."

"But who?"

"On that point, Mr Denny was not sure, but he had it on good authority. I would imagine it was the one or other of the officers, though I would not even put it past my own two youngest daughters, I am sorry to say."

"No, me neither," Darcy muttered before in mortification of having voiced what was supposed to stay inside his head, he closed his eyes.

Would he never learn to keep his tongue in check? His behaviour in society was after all awkward enough as it was, with his almost painful shyness which he had to overcome each and every time he ventured out. Under normal circumstances, of course, he managed quite well, but Mr Bennet, as well as his daughter, had this way about them which made him speak his mind.

"I appreciate your honesty, Mr Darcy. So, answer me sincerely, would you have ever considered marrying my little Lizzy if it were not necessary to save her reputation?"

"Yes. Yes, I would have. And have done so. I love your daughter with all my heart. I have struggled for weeks to fight my growing affection for her, but it was in vain. I have to admit though, had it not been for this most awkward situation I would not have known how I could have nor how I would have managed to declare myself. I am a tongue-tied fellow at the most inconvenient of times, I fear."

Leaning back in his armchair Mr Bennet thoughtfully gazed at the man before him. A man he had always perceived as being arrogant and haughty and who now sat before him almost like a little boy, admitting he was shy and not all that assured of the people's respect and regard for him, as would be befitting a man of his station. On top of this, Mr Darcy was well able to cast convention to the side when he had to like he had shown tonight. He had proven to be loyal to his friend and honourable towards Wickham, only revealing the man's faults when challenged. No wonder Elizabeth loved him this much, he had seen her affection earlier in the day when she had defended him against each and every one. It was just that as yet she herself was probably unaware of her feelings. Or was she? She had appeared most happy, proud even, when she had left the dining room, knowing what would happen.

"So, what can you offer her?" Mr Bennet at last asked.

"Well, there is, of course, my estate in Derbyshire..."

"That is not what I mean, Mr Darcy. What can you offer her as a husband? My wife is the one you can impress with your riches, though I would advise you against it unless you fancy a sudden loss of hearing."

Smiling wryly Darcy answered: "I could offer Elizabeth an equal share of everything I own, and most importantly all of my heart. If God will have it the pitter-patter of many little feet and children's carefree laughter. Then many an animated discussion, books, long walks and…- Love, simply love and respect."

"Have you any particular date in mind? Given the situation, I am almost tempted to suggest a triple wedding, but a double would do."

"But I have not even asked her if she wants me. What if she says n..."

His eyes widened in surprise as a dainty hand was placed on his lips to keep him from finishing his sentence.

"I will not say no, Mr Darcy, not because of the scandal it might cause, but because I have taken my cousin's advice to heart, namely to follow my heart and it has led me to you."

Epilogue 

Eight months later:

It had been a very hot day in the middle of harvest, the air hot and humid. Tired Elizabeth Darcy lounged on the sofa in the library at Pemberley, the curtains half drawn but the high and airy windows open in an attempt to let in a light breeze. The novel she was reading did not capture her, yet the insistent squirming inside her stomach kept her from dozing off. It was as if the little creature growing there was quite determined to be most active when she was in dire need of rest, as for when she took her walks, nowadays mainly through the shrubbery and back as her ankles had swollen off late, it hardly ever moved at all. 

With a smile on her lips, one hand caressing her increased midsection, she remembered the book with which it all had begun and wondered where her husband might keep it. Now, this would be more interesting reading material, Elizabeth thought to herself. Sitting up with some difficulty and heaving herself off the incredibly comfortable piece of furniture, she went in search of it. It was not in the library, she had established that already, and also not in her or her husband's bedchamber. Her smile increased as an idea of its whereabouts crossed her mind. She made her way to the billiard room, a room not dissimilar to the one at Netherfield, and sure enough, there on the side table in front of the empty grate it was. Oh, what a sentimental sod Mr Darcy could be at times. And how much she loved him for it!

Sitting back down in one of the window seats, once again the young Mrs Darcy flipped through the pages of a book of whose topic she was now so very familiar with. A topic whose theoretical advice had, soon after the conversion to its practical use on their wedding night and many nights thereafter, quickly led to her present state.

As if he had sensed her innermost thoughts about and her growing desire for him, Fitzwilliam Darcy entered the room, having found her nowhere else. In his informal clothing and the dusty riding boots, he looked nothing like the haughty and arrogant man she had once thought him to be. In the morning his steward had voiced his concerns about a storm brewing and the master of Pemberley, without hesitation had hastened to help in the physical labour, lest the crops would be destroyed. When all hands were needed this, Elizabeth had found to her astonishment, included the hands of Mr Darcy. 

His arrival, however, meant they had managed to bring everything in and just in time it was, as a distant rumble proved the steward to be right. 

"You know Fitzwilliam, you have never told me why you had such a book lying about in the first place." she held up the magnificent tome which bore no title.

"Does it matter now?" her husband smiled, proudly glancing over his beloved wife till his eyes met hers.

"I am just curious, so, please indulge me."

Pouring himself a glass of water from a decanter on a sideboard he crossed the room and settled next to her, his arm snaking about her back and pulling her close.

"Oh well, then I have to make a confession or two, I suppose. How do you feel today, my dearest Elizabeth?"

"Do not attempt to change the subject."

"I did not intend to, but it all began with – you."

"Me?"

"Yes. Before I knew it, you had stolen my heart and my mind was so full of you that I committed the indiscretion of writing extensively about you to my cousin. - Which would be my first confession."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam you mean, I presume?"

"No, my Cousin Anne."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open in astonishment. Glancing up she saw the sparkle in his eyes and the twitch of his mouth as he suppressed a smirk, and realised he was teasing her.

"Of course Colonel Fitzwilliam, my dear," he laughed, at last, pecking her on the tip of her nose.

"And so, on the very morning of the ball, I received a parcel containing this book and a note. I had unwrapped it and looked through it, realising what it was, and then Bingley asked me something and I put it down to retrieve later and forgot all about it till I saw you holding it in your hands."

"And why would the Colonel feel compelled to send you such a manual?"

The embarrassed blush spreading across Darcy's face was most becoming.

"Because on our wedding night I was just as innocent in regards to these things as you were."

"And this is you second confession?"

He nodded, caressing her back.

"Oh!" Elizabeth suddenly cried out, her hand reaching for her middle as a particular insistent kick hit her in the side. It was joined momentarily by her husband's claiming his share of the experience. 

Leaning into her a little more closely, he whispered into her ear: "What would you say, my dear, if we ventured upstairs and rock our little one to sleep?"

The End


End file.
